


They're Just Big Fluffy Puppies with Bad Teeth...Right?

by CydSA



Category: Angel: the Series, Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-15
Updated: 2011-10-15
Packaged: 2017-10-24 15:28:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/265050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CydSA/pseuds/CydSA
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There’s something happening in Barrow, Alaska. The town is being overrun by vampires who’re revelling in the two month long, almost 24-hour a day, darkness. Half the townsfolk are in hiding, the other half are in denial – and are ending up as food. Sam and Dean decide that they might need some extra help on this one. They get a little more than they bargain for when Angel and Spike introduce them to Illyria. Having an ex-god on their side might help even if Dean’s angel thinks it’s a very bad idea indeed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	They're Just Big Fluffy Puppies with Bad Teeth...Right?

Dean pulled the Impala to the curb and turned to look at Sam. “So where is he?”

Sam climbed out and stared into the dark alley. “He said he’d be here,” he muttered. Dean heaved a sigh and climbed out after him.

“He’s not always been Mr. Reliable, dude.” He fished a beer out of the trunk and handed another to Sam.

“Who isn’t?” Castiel was standing behind Dean and he yelped, beer bottle dropping to the ground with a smash of glass.

“Fucker!” He poked Cas in the chest. “You have to stop doing that!”

Castiel’s mouth twitched and it was practically a roar of laughter for the angel. “Who are you waiting for?” he asked.

“A PI,” Sam told him. “Private investigator,” he explained at Castiel’s blank expression.

“What do you need investigating that you cannot handle yourself?” Cas inquired.

Dean threw up his hands. “That’s exactly what I told him!” He sent a pointed glare at Sam.

“You make a lot of noise,” the quiet voice had them all spinning. The big man who came out of the shadows had a strong jaw and an unsmiling mouth.

“Vampire!” Cas hissed and lunged at the newcomer.

Dean grabbed Castiel’s trench coat. “He’s a _good_ vampire,” he told Cas, holding on as Castiel glared at him.

“There is no such thing,” Cas replied. “Those Twilight stories you insist on reading are nonsense, Dean. All vampires drink human blood.”

Dean’s gaze should have reduced Castiel to a pile of angel dust. It didn’t.

Sam held out his hand. “Thanks for meeting us, Angel.” The vampire shook Sam’s hand with a small smile.

“Angel?” Castiel shook his head. “This is no angel. It is a monster.”

“With a soul,” Angel said and Cas went still. “You’re welcome to check.” Angel kept his arms at his sides and Castiel stepped closer. Dean could see the flinch in his face as Castiel plunged his arm into his chest.

“Oi! What the fuck you think you’re doing?” The incongruous British accent caught their attention and they turned to see a Billy Idol look-a-like vamped out and snarling, heading straight for them. Cas released Angel, who dropped to his knees.

“Another one!” Castiel’s hand shot out and sent the blond vampire flying.

“Cas! Stop doing that, for fuck’s sake!” Sam shouted and ran towards the new guy. “Spike, you okay?” he asked as he hauled Spike to his feet.

“The fuck?” Spike’s eyes shot daggers at Castiel. “Angels?”

“Vampires,” Cas said and looked at Dean.

“ **Good** vampires,” Sam repeated to Castiel.

Dean shrugged. “I’m the driver on this one,” he said and offered a hand to Angel.

“A monster called Angel,” Cas mused. He looked at Spike. “You too have a soul?”

“Yeah, I do but you’re not doing your sodding angel-mojo on me!” Spike told him and crossed his arms across his chest.

Angel put a big hand on Spike’s shoulder and he went quiet. “Sam, you said you needed our help?” Angel’s dark eyes were calm.

Dean snorted. “I still think this is a bad idea,” he told the universe in general. “Getting in bed with the monsters never ends well for us.”

“There will be no bedding with the vampires,” Castiel growled.

Dean grinned. “I meant in a figurative way, Cas.”

“Oh,” Cas thought about it for a moment and then nodded. “That is acceptable.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “You two are making me nauseous,” he said.

Spike’s blue eyes were wide. “A hunter and an angel?” he started laughing. “Dear god, that’s even worse than a slayer and a vampire!”

“No comment from the peanut gallery, Fangoria,” Dean pointed at Spike. “We know what you and Angel are to each other.”

Spike scowled. “We’re very old friends.”

Dean grinned. “Very _good_ friends indeed,” he agreed.

Spike snarled and made to lunge for Dean. Angel’s hand stayed him. “We have work to do,” he said and his quiet calm got Spike to back down.

“I’ve been watching the reports and there seems to be a rise in vampire activity in Alaska. A town called Barrow, specifically,” Sam said.

Angel nodded. “Yes, it looks like it’s the new romantic thing to do; get yourself turned so that you can be with your lover forever.”

“Fucking Twilight,” Spike muttered. “Makes us all look like a bunch of nancy boys.” Dean grinned. That English accent made everything Spike said sound awesome.

Cas tipped his head to one side. “I do not understand that phrase,” he said.

Dean patted his arm. “I’ll explain it to you later,” he promised. “So, who’s responsible for all the new bloodsuckers?” he asked.

“I’ve been asking around and it looks like it could be a group of rogue vampires,” Angel looked at Sam. “We’re going to head up there tomorrow.”

Sam nodded. “We’ll start out tonight; meet you there in a couple of days.”

Angel waved a hand. “There’s no way into Barrow except by barge or plane.”

“So, you fly and we’ll get there under our own steam,” Spike told them.

“I don’t fly,” Dean felt his skin crawl just thinking about getting onto a plane. And it would be one of those teeny, tiny planes with propellers that asked for certain death. He shuddered.

“I have a private jet,” Angel offered. Dean looked at the big guy again and wondered just how much of his story he’d actually told them.

“We’ll meet you in Anchorage,” Sam said hastily before Dean could say another word, and Dean scowled at his brother. “We can take your jet from there to Barrow if that’s okay with you?”

Angel nodded. “It’s a short enough flight.”

Spike bared his teeth at Dean in a nasty grin. “I’ve got some elephant tranqs if you’d like.”

Dean stepped forward to show Spike just what he thought of _that_ offer but Sam put one of those stupid huge dinner-plate hands on his chest. “Sounds good,” he told Angel.

“Who says we need you to help us anyway?” Dean tried to get back a little dignity; being held in place by his little brother by one hand wasn’t cool. Sammy was going to pay, the bitch.

“You are the last of the true hunters,” Angel said and Dean thought that those black eyes saw right through him. “But you’re going to need our help this time.”

“We’ve done fine on our own so far,” Dean protested.

Castiel closed his eyes. “I must go,” he murmured. He fixed Dean with deep blue eyes. “I will meet up with you when I can.”

“Yeah, go and be king of heaven or whatever,” Dean muttered and tried not to sound like a girl whose boyfriend was deserting her.

“Correct protocol is for me to kiss you goodbye, is it not?” Cas asked and he leaned in.

“Whoa,” Dean put a hand on his chest. “You keep those lips to yourself, feather-brain.”

Castiel frowned. “But I am leaving so it is proper that we share a farewell.” He sounded perplexed.

“God save me from romantic angels!” Spike’s eyes were rolling so hard that Dean could only see the whites.

Cas sighed and his shoulders slumped. “It appears that I have yet to master human non-verbal communication.”

Dean took pity on him and pressed a short kiss on his dry lips. “See you in the state of eternal night.”

Castiel’s eyes were luminous as he stared at Dean. “Yes,” he breathed and Dean’s ears popped as he vanished.

“Neat trick,” Spike observed.

“I still think we should have just asked Cas to take us there,” Sam grumbled.

Dean sent him a sharp look. “My angel is not your personal chauffer, Sammy.”

Sam rolled his eyes and shook his head. “It would save us time. Plus you wouldn’t have to fly and bitch like you always do.”

“I’m not leaving my baby here without me,” Dean said firmly. He patted the Impala’s bonnet.

“So you’ll be happier if we leave her at an airport?” Sam obviously didn’t understand Dean-logic in this case.

“She’ll be protected,” Dean explained. “They have security.” It made total sense to him.

“Whatever, you’re an idiot,” Sam muttered.

“ _You’re_ the idiot,” Dean shot back.

“Would you mind taking someone with you tonight?” Angel asked suddenly, interrupting their debate.

Sam shrugged. “Sure, but our car isn’t really equipped to transport vamps.”

Angel shook his head. “She’s not a vampire,” he said.

“She?” Dean asked, perking up.

“Illyria,” Angel called and a tall, slender woman came out of the shadows.

“Holy crap!” Dean took a step back and hit the door of the Impala. “You’re blue!”

“I am Illyria, a god of the Old Ones and you should kneel before me, humans,” she said and her voice was deep, her eyes deep pools of endless night.

“Howdy,” Dean waved. “I was the chosen vessel of Michael the archangel.”

Illyria stared at him. “I am older than your Christian gods,” she said eventually.

“Sammy here was the vessel for Lucifer, you know, the devil?” Dean offered.

“Shut up, you moron,” Sam told him as Illyria fixed her eyes on him.

“She’s sort of a friend. Sometimes, when she’s not being a pain in my ass,” Spike offered and Dean decided that he and Spike were going to have fun together. “I call her Fred,”

“Fred,” Dean tried and the god glared at him.

“I am Illyria,” she repeated.

“Hey Fred,” Dean said again and found himself on the other side of the Impala, his head ringing. “Ow.”

“Serves you right,” Sam muttered and hauled him upright.

Dean watched his Sasquatch of a brother smile at the blue chick. “I’m Sam Winchester,” he said and held out a hand.

She watched him for a moment and then took Sam’s hand. They stood there, holding hands and Dean groaned. “Oh fuck, that’s all I need.”

Illyria’s eyes went silver when she looked at Dean. “I do not like this human,” she told Angel.

“He’s an acquired taste,” Sam apologised and Dean kicked his ankle.

“Fuck you very much, I’m awesome!”

Angel grinned and it transformed his entire face. “She doesn’t eat much so she’s a cheap date.”

“We need to get going, your highness,” Spike spoke up and poked Angel. “I can feel the dawn.”

“Yeah,” Angel went to Illyria. “Stay with them. They’ll look after you until we meet up again.”

If a woman a full head shorter than someone could look down her nose at them, that is exactly what she did. “I am more than capable of caring for myself.”

Spike rolled his eyes. “Well then, _you_ keep them alive until we meet up in Anchorage, okay, Blue?”

Illyria blinked. And then she smiled and Dean thought it was the scariest thing he had ever seen. “Very well,” she said and climbed into the passenger side of the Impala.

Dean opened his mouth to object but closed it again when Angel shook his head minutely. He scowled and tossed his keys to Sam. “You drive.”

Sam didn’t hesitate and practically leapt into the car. Dean climbed into the backseat and folded his arms. “Sleeping,” he told Sam.

[   
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Angel looked at Spike. “Time for bed?”

Spike grinned at him. “Indeed, pet,” he turned to watch the Impala drive off. “Think they’ll be okay?”

Angel shrugged. “Illyria seemed to take a fancy to Sam, who knows.”

“Take a fancy,” Spike bumped his shoulder. “You’ve such a mouth on you sometimes.”

Angel smiled. “All the better to kiss you with, Demon Lord of Beverley Hills.”

Spike arched a brow. “Put your money where your mouth is, sunshine.”

Angel kissed him. It was one of those soft, slow kisses that Spike secretly liked but usually ended up teasing Angel about.

Angel pulled back and stroked a hand down Spike’s face. “I feel the sun.”

They went to their car. They’d left it at the other end of the alleyway and Spike lay back against the seat as Angel headed into the traffic. “Dean’s a cocky guy,” he noted.

“I’ve known the Winchesters for a long time,” Angel said. “Actually, I’ve known many of the hunter families over the years.”

“And none of them wanted to kill you?” Spike asked.

Angel laughed. “A few of them tried,” he admitted. “But I’m pretty hard to get rid of.”

“A sort of immortal cockroach,” Spike said and his grin widened when Angel glared at him. “A cute cockroach with a really big forehead,” he amended.

“You are a trial,” Angel told him.

“You love me anyway.” Spike’s expression was utterly confident.

Angel sighed. “Despite myself I think.”

“So, why do you s’pose the Winchesters came to us for help?” Spike watched the horizon carefully. They were cutting it fine.

“Sam called me, not Dean.” Angel turned into the Playboy mansion and pulled up in front of the doors. “God, we _have_ to find somewhere else to live.”

Spike hopped out and leered at him over the top of the car. “Hey, at least we’ve got enough lube to last us until the End of Days. Always look on the bright side, that’s me!”

Angel headed up the stairs. “I think I should have stayed with Buffy.”

“Boring!” Spike sang behind him and the doors opened.

“Sane,” Angel insisted.

“So we’re heading out tomorrow then?” Spike trailed after him as they headed for their room.

“As soon as the sun sets,” Angel said. He threw his duster over the chair and toed off his boots. Spike followed him into the bathroom and crowded up behind him when he put the shower on. Like everything in the mansion it was huge and over the top and allowed for some very energetic sex.

“Dean’s very pretty,” Spike growled.

Angel turned the taps and started unbuttoning his shirt. Spike came around in front and batted his hands away. “Isn’t he?” Angel liked it when Spike got jealous. It usually meant that he got lucky.

“For a human,” Angel agreed and smiled at Spike’s glare. “He’s being fucked by an angel, Billy; he’s not interested in a lowly vampire.”

“That the only reason you’re not falling at his feet?” Spike ran his hands across Angel’s chest, the action a now-familiar one that made Angel suck in a breath.

“Yeah, that’s the only reason,” Angel agreed and pushed Spike’s hands away and tugged at his t-shirt. “That and the fact that I’m completely in love with you.”

Spike beamed at him, lifting his arms so that Angel could pull the t-shirt up and off. “You say the sweetest things.”

They both stepped back for a moment to get out of their pants and underwear. Angel stepped under the rainfall showerhead. He lifted his face to the hot water and felt his body heat up from the inside. A moment later, Spike was there with him, arms around him, pressed in tight.

They stood there for a while, wrapped in each other and enjoying the brief time of hot bodies and warm skin. It always faded quickly once they were out of the shower but for that small space in time they were warm-blooded and almost human.

Spike was the first to move, never capable of staying in one place for too long. He reached out a hand for a loofah behind Angel and started scrubbing gently at Angel’s back.

Angel made a small sound of approval and dropped his head back to lean against the wall. Spike pressed a kiss against the hollow of his throat and then bit down.

An instant rush of _hot, want, more, love, lust_ swept over both of them. Sharing blood was even more intimate than sex and it joined them in every way. Angel knew where Spike was every moment of every day and if he didn’t love him so much, it might have driven him crazy.

The bond worked both ways though and Spike knew when Angel was stressed or angry or simply just missing him.

“Love you,” Angel breathed as he ran his hands down Spike’s back and over his ass.

Spike pulled away and Angel leaned down to kiss him. It was blood and spit and teeth and their tongues wrestled even as their hands clutched each other.

“You don’t _always_ have to be in charge,” Spike complained but went willingly as Angel hoisted him up into his arms. They both groaned as Angel sank into him. “Good bloody thing I don’t break easily, you wanker,” Spike told Angel.

He grunted when Angel turned around and held Spike against the shower wall, hips pumping hard. “Can’t you ever just shut the hell up and enjoy the moment?” Angel gritted as he dropped his forehead against the warmth of Spike’s neck.

Spike twisted his hips in a little shimmy that made Angel suck in a breath. “Wouldn’t want you to get bored, love,” he lifted a hand and swept Angel’s wet hair away from his face.

“I think I can honestly say that in all the time I’ve known you, ‘bored’ is the only thing I have never been,” Angel said and bit down hard at the vein in Spike’s neck.

“Plan on keeping it that way,” Spike promised and they both came in a wash of blood and come and water.

Spike was noodle-loose as Angel manoeuvred them out of the shower. After a cursory wipe down, they bundled together in the warmth of their bed. They wrestled a little bit, both wanting to be the big spoon, but eventually Angel used his size and curled around Spike.

“Those Winchesters,” Spike’s voice was drowsy and just on the brink of sleep. “Think they’ll be okay until we get there?”

Angel made a small agreeing sound. “They’ve been hunting the bad guys for a long time, they’ll be fine.”

“Blue looked at Sam as though he was lunch,” Spike observed.

Angel snuffled a chuckle. “I don’t know who I’m more worried about now.” He squeezed Spike’s waist. “Go to sleep.”

“Bossy,” Spike muttered and the day took him under.

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Dean kept his eyes firmly closed when Sam went into geek-gasm with the blue meanie. Sometimes he wondered where Sam had come from and then he remembered the times he’d met their mother and he knew. Sam was Mary Winchester with a penis. All bleeding heart and fierce fighter and bookworm.

“So where are you originally from?” Sam asked.

There was a small pause as though Illyria was weighing what to say to Sam and then, “I am from the Primordium.”

“The what?” Sam said exactly what Dean was thinking.

“It was an age long before the time of men,” she said and there was a touch of longing in her tone. “I ruled over what you know as North America from my citadel, Vahla ha'nesh.”

Sam tested the name on his tongue and Dean could practically see the drool at the thought of new information. “You said you’re a god.”

Again there was a pause and then true sorrow in that almost flat voice. “I do not have the power I once enjoyed,” she admitted. “This form cannot contain all that I was.”

Dean rolled his eyeballs behind his lids. “I’m sure it must be difficult for you.” He could practically see Sammy’s bleeding heart.

“It took much time but I am finally approaching contentment in this world, in this form.” Illyria almost sounded surprised at her admission.

“Well, I for one am very pleased to meet you,” Sam said and Dean cracked open one eyelid to look at his brother. God, the sappiness of the expression on his face was enough to send him into a sugar coma. Sometimes he was genuinely embarrassed to call Sam family.

“Awesome,” he muttered.

“What?” Sam asked, catching his gaze in the rear view mirror.

“Nothing,” Dean said. “Just talking to myself.”

Illyria turned in her seat and fixed those cobalt blue eyes on him. “Spike has assured me that this is a sign of approaching madness,” she said.

“Nah,” Sam grinned. “He approached it, turned to the left and went right the way into completely fucking nuts.”

Dean raised a lazy hand and flipped him off. “Bite me,” he said.

“Humans do not taste good,” Illyria said and Dean could tell that she was perfectly serious.

“You’ve eaten people?” Sam’s face was a picture of horror and Dean could only hope that meant he was turned off the freak.

“Before I understood that they were sentient beings,” Illyria looked at Sam. “There was another human, one like you, interested in knowledge and understanding of differences.” Dean felt her unspoken, ‘unlike your brother’ and thought about protesting.

“You cared about him?” Sam asked.

She shrugged. “He cared for the soul this form belonged to.” Diffidence sat awkwardly on her shoulders. “He hated me for destroying her essence.”

“Did you know?” Dean leaned forward and stared at her.

“I knew that her soul would be burned out of her body, yes.” Blue within blue eyes stared back at him and Dean wondered.

“I think some of her humanity stayed behind.” He sat back and closed his eyes again. “It’s why you loved that other guy.”

“I did not love him!” Illyria insisted.

“Course you did,” Dean stated confidently. “That’s why it hurt when he died.”

“I said nothing about his death.” Illyria’s voice was a low warning and Sam made a small noise.

“He died. It’s why you changed. You felt his loss.” Dean opened his eyes and looked into eternal blue. “It’s why you still hang around this plane.”

“I have nowhere else to go,” Illyria admitted.

“Spike and Angel seem to like you,” Sam offered.

“I feel as though I am superfluous,” she stared at the road and frowned. “I am accustomed to being worshipped, not being ignored.”

Sam opened his mouth and caught Dean’s glare in the rearview mirror. “It must be tough,” he said and Dean narrowed his gaze. He just _knew_ his nerdy, bleeding heart baby brother had been about to offer the ex-god a seat on the Winchester train.

There was the sound of wings and Cas was suddenly beside him in the car. “Why do you have one of the Old Ones travelling with you?” he demanded.

Illyria almost twisted her neck off she turned so quickly. “This is your angelic consort?” she asked Dean.

Dean nearly growled. “He is not my fucking consort!”

Illyria merely stared at him. “You enjoy sexual congress with him, yes?” Dean could see the blush creeping up the back of Sam’s neck.

“He is an exceptional bed partner,” Castiel agreed and Dean turned his lethal glare on Cas.

“Don’t count on it happening any time soon, buddy.”

“Can we please _not_ talk about you having sex with an angel?” Sam pleaded.

“I didn’t start this conversation,” Dean pointed out.

“Sex is the most basic of all human functions, apart from excretion and breathing,” Illyria informed them.

“Indeed,” Cas agreed. “I don’t understand why they behave so squeamishly when it comes to talking about it.”

The car went a little sideways on the road as Sam looked up to the heavens. “Why me?” he asked no one in particular.

“You were born into Crazyland,” Dean told him with a grin. He looked over at Castiel who was staring at him intently. “What?” he asked.

“I have a message for you.”

“From?” Dean asked, immediately suspicious.

“Me,” Castiel replied and Dean thought back on the angel he’d first met, so many years ago.

“And you said that Raphael was the funniest of all the angelic host,” Dean drawled.

“I have managed to develop a more mortal sense of humor,” Cas admitted.

“So what’s the message?” Sam asked. Illyria stared at Sam and Dean thought she looked like a scientist looking at an insect. He _really_ didn’t like it.

“The vampire nest you are seeking is something more.” Dean looked sharply at Cas who gazed back at him.

“And that means..?” he prompted.

Castiel turned away and watched the landscape passing by for a moment. “I am not sure yet,” he said eventually and abruptly Dean was terrified.

“If you don’t know, then how are _we_ supposed to know?” Sam asked.

“Not everything of earth is made known to the angels,” Castiel replied.

“These creatures, are they of earth?” Illyria’s question drew Dean’s attention to her. She seemed to have come alive at the possibility of monsters. It made Dean wonder just what she had been when she’d been a god with all her powers intact. It made him a little scared.

“They could be of another dimension,” Cas told her. “It is more likely that they are a hybrid of some sort.”

“A monster hybrid?” Sam asked curiously.

“It is possible,” Cas admitted.

“What kind of monster hybrid?” Dean was suspicious. He knew Cas knew more than what he was saying.

“The bad kind,” Sam muttered. Dean kicked the back of the seat.

“Why can’t it ever be easy anymore?” he whined. “I mean, we stopped the Apocalypse, caged Lucifer, kicked ass with the Mother of All…” he slanted a look at Castiel, “Put up with your wannabe godly ass.”

Castiel leveled a look at him and Dean scowled.

“Being a hunter is hard work, is all I’m saying,” Dean protested.

“You are a hunter by choice,” Cas reminded him. “I did offer to set you up as the consort to my throne.”

Sam choked back a laugh and Dean kicked at him again. “Shut up, asshole,” he muttered.

“Consort to the throne?” Illyria sounded interested. “I would make a powerful consort.”

Castiel shook his head. “Your presence would not survive in heaven.” She fixed those cobalt eyes on him and he explained, “I believe that the fact that you possessed a body that was not yours by force would result in the heavenly hosts in viewing you as a demon. They would rend your essence in a million pieces and fling you to Hell.”

“Nice,” Dean said and held out his hand when Sam glared at him. “What? I meant that in a sarcastic way! I wouldn’t really be pro the rending of essence in any way at all. C’mon Sammy, you should know my subtleties by now.”

“Yeah, you’re subtle alright,” Sam muttered. “Subtle like a brick.”

“Hey!” Dean protested, “I’m hurt.”

“Do they behave like this all the time?” Illyria asked Castiel.

Cas seemed to think about it for a moment. “Yes,” he said eventually.

“It must grow tiresome,” Illyria mused.

“It does on occasion,” Castiel agreed. Dean gritted his teeth.

“No sex, ever again,” he told Cas through a clenched jaw.

Castiel’s shoulders slumped. “I wish you would decide what you want from me,” he said. “First you want honesty and now, when I am honest, you wish to remove your favors from me.”

Sam laughed, almost driving the Impala off the road as Dean sputtered. Some days it just didn’t pay to get out of bed.

Dean glared at Cas and then spotted the slight curve of mouth that gave the asshole away. “Angels are dicks!” he pointed at Castiel who allowed the curve to become a smile.

“I am learning how to…” Cas paused as he searched for the right words, “play you.”

“You’ll pay for that,” Dean crossed his arms and pushed himself against the door, as far from the dick as possible.

“Cas got you good!” Sam crowed and Dean landed a savage kick into the back of the driver’s seat. And then promptly apologized to his baby, rubbing the leather with a gentle hand.

“I’m not talking to either of you anymore,” Dean told them and pressed his mouth shut.

“Yeah,” Sam scoffed. “Like that’ll last.”

Illyria had been quiet all this time and then she sighed. “I forget that humans are so full of _feelings_.” She said the word like a curse and Dean thought that to an exiled god, it probably was.

“I have another reason for coming here,” Castiel said and Dean looked at him.

“Oh yeah?” he asked and did not feel his cock twitch in interest when those laser blue eyes fixed on him.

“I know that you do not like to fly so I wanted to offer my assistance once you reach Anchorage,” Cas said after a moment of watching him.

Dean squirmed a little on his seat, body feeling hot after that brief exchange. It fucked with him, these things that just looking at Cas made him feel. “So are you going to give me a ride to Barrow?” he asked, voice sounding a bit hoarse.

Castiel shook his head. “No, but I can help you to relax once you’re in the air.”

Sam choked on an unmanly giggle. “I’ve heard sex is awesome for relaxation,” he grinned.

Castiel’s blue eyes met Sam’s in the rearview mirror. “I don’t believe that Dean would be comfortable with a public display.”

“Oh my god,” Dean groaned and closed his eyes. “How the fuck is this my life?”

“I can put him into a hypnotic state,” Illyria offered. “I’m not sure that it would not destroy much of his mind, but it would aid his panic of being airborne.”

Both Cas and Sam were shaking their heads and Dean supposed that he should be grateful for small mercies. “No, but thank you,” Sam said with a smile as though she hadn’t just offered to fry Dean’s brain.

“Seriously,” Dean exclaimed, waving a hand between them all. “Can you hear yourselves?”

Cas leveled a stare at him. “Would you like me to help you sleep while you are flying?” he asked.

“No!” Dean yelled. “I can cope with a couple of hours in the fucking air! I am not a fucking princess, okay?”

Castiel’s nostrils flared a little. “Very well,” he said and it was quiet and ominous and made Dean feel like an ungrateful asshole.

And Cas vanished.

Sam refused to talk to Dean for the rest of the day and Illyria seemed to find nothing strange about the stony silence. Dean knew that he was going to have to make it up to Cas somehow. God, he hated being in the wrong.

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Dean looked around the room and grimaced. The motel was clean; that was about all the place had going for it. It looked like it had been decorated in the seventies and then got stuck in a time warp.

He’d told Sam that he wanted his own room. Sam had just snorted and booked three singles, putting Illyria in the room between theirs.

Dean knew that he was going to have to apologize to Castiel. Now, if only Cas would show up. He sat down on the bed with the ugly green throw and closed his eyes. “Cas, I need to talk to you, please.” He cracked one eye open but Cas wasn’t there.

“Come on, Cas,” he prompted, “you can’t avoid me forever.” Still nothing and he flopped back onto the mattress.

“Fuck.”

“I am not an dog to come at your beck and call,” Cas said suddenly and Dean gave a totally non-girly shriek. The angel was sitting next to him on the bed, back stiff and straight.

Dean sat up again and put a hand on Castiel’s arm. “I know you’re not,” he assured Cas. “I just wanted to see you, you know?”

“Why?” Cas asked and there was something of winter in his tone, cold and formal and not the Castiel that Dean knew at all.

“Well, we’re you know…together,” Dean tried to avoid the actual words. He hated having to apologize.

Castiel kept didn’t say anything and the silence started eating at Dean. “Fine,” he muttered. “I’m sorry.” He said it as though it was the end of the argument. Because it was Cas, of course it wasn’t.

“Why are you apologizing?” Cas asked and Dean blew out an exasperated breath.

“Because I acted like an asshole,” he clarified.

Cas turned his gaze on Dean. “I don’t understand what you want of me.”

Dean moved his hand down Castiel’s arm until he reached his hand. He wrapped his fingers around Castiel’s and squeezed. “You and me both, Cas,” he admitted.

“We are lovers?” Cas seemed unsure.

Dean nodded. “Yeah, we’re lovers.”

“Friends?” Cas asked and this time he looked away.

Dean reached around with his other hand and brought Castiel’s face back around. “Yeah, we’re friends,” he said.

“So why were you angry when I, your friend and lover, wanted to help you get through a difficult time?” Cas was obviously confused and Dean really couldn’t blame him.

“I’m a guy,” Dean said as though that explained everything. Castiel raised an enquiring eyebrow. “I don’t like to see weak,” Dean clarified further.

Cas frowned. “You are the strongest soul I have ever known,” he said and shook his head. “Stronger than many angels.”

Dean grinned. “Yeah, I know I’m awesome.” He stroked a finger down Castiel’s rough cheek. “I lashed out because I felt that I looked like a pussy.”

Cas turned a little and pressed his lips to Dean’s finger. “There isn’t anything cat-like about you.”

Dean decided not to try and explain what he meant to Castiel. “Forget it, okay? Just accept my apology and let’s move on.”

He could almost see the wheels turning in that angel brain. “I should exact a penalty,” Cas said thoughtfully.

“I’m human,” Dean protested, “I’m a sinner, it happens!” He was sort of looking forward to losing this particular argument.

“Nevertheless,” Cas insisted. “You should atone for your actions.”

Dean did _not_ get hard at the liquid heat in Castiel’s voice. “Um…” he said and was rather proud at being so articulate.

Cas pounced. One second they were sitting side by side on the bed, the next Castiel was on top of Dean, mouth hot at the base of Dean’s throat.

“You need to stop using your angel mojo to seduce me,” Dean mumbled as Cas sucked a bruise into his skin.

“You need to stop talking,” Cas told him and Dean opened his mouth to protest this bit of autocracy when Cas ran his hand down Dean’s chest and palmed his cock. Dean whimpered.

“Okay,” he agreed and he could actually feel Castiel’s smile against his neck.

It helped having an angel as a lover; clothes melted away as if by magic and Dean shivered when he felt Castiel’s length against him. “You drive me crazy, Dean,” Cas told him as he kissed his way down the length of Dean’s torso.

“Crazy good, right?” Dean gasped when Castiel sank his teeth into the muscle of his hip.

“Crazy,” Cas reaffirmed and then his mouth was on Dean’s cock, hot, wet, perfect and Dean went out of his mind for a moment. He arched up into the warmth of Castiel’s mouth and whined when Cas pulled away.

Dean looked down and decided that he would never get used to the sight of Castiel like this. His eyes were vibrant blue and his mouth was red and a little swollen and he was pretty much the most beautiful thing Dean could ever imagine seeing.

“Fuck me,” he ordered and Castiel grinned.

“Is this your way of making things up to me?” he asked. His voice was sex-rough and it made Dean shudder.

“Shut the fuck up and fuck me,” he told Cas.

“Yes,” Castiel hissed and his fingers found Dean’s hole. Dean had stopped wondering where Cas managed to get lube. He didn’t want to think about Cas wandering into a pharmacy asking for lubricant. Cas would totally ask for lubricant. Just like that. Lubricant. It was a word Cas would relish.

He sucked in a breath when Cas pressed one finger into him.

“Perfect.” Dean tended to speak in one word sentences when he was aroused. And he was very, very aroused right now.

Dean wriggled a little to find the right position and his breath hitched when Castiel’s finger crooked inside him and unerringly found his prostate. “Don’t,” Dean gasped. “Wanna come with you inside me.”

There was something distinctly feral in Castiel’s eyes as he pressed another finger into Dean. “I love seeing you like this,” he told Dean. “You are always so controlled, so careful about what emotions you show the world. But here, like this, with me, you’re all mine.”

Dean wanted to protest, tell Cas that he didn’t belong to anyone but he knew it was a lie. He’d been Castiel’s from the moment he’d seen him fighting his way through demons to reach him in Hell. “Yes,” he said and Cas rewarded him with a third finger and a sharp nip to his inner thigh.

Dean whined.

Then Cas was crawling up his body, fingers gone and leaving Dean feeling empty. “Please…” Dean begged and Cas lifted Dean’s leg and he could feel the burning heat of Castiel’s cock against his ass.

“It makes me want to take you from the inside of your skin when you sound like that," Cas rasped and the sound of his voice scraped across Dean’s skin like fire.

“That’s vaguely disturbing,” Dean sucked in a breath as Castiel’s hips canted forward and he groaned as Cas pushed in.

“It disturbs me too,” Cas admitted as he sank to the hilt into Dean. “I am an angel of the lord, I should not want, I should not need.”

Dean’s fingers dug into the skin of Castiel’s hips and he concentrated on breathing. The feeling of Cas being inside him was indescribable. “Don’t care what you should be,” he told Cas and bit his lip as Castiel surged forward. “Only care what you _are_.”

He met Castiel’s gaze and fell into that eternal blue. “You made me what I am now, Dean Winchester,” Cas growled and he moved in one long sinuous roll of hips that made Dean’s eyes cross. “You saved me.”

“We saved each other,” Dean told him and then let his heart follow his body into oblivion as he came so hard he thought his body was shaking apart. Cas dropped his head into the crook of Dean’s neck and bit down as he came, groaning his release into the curve of Dean’s throat.

Dean wrapped his arms around Castiel, held him as he shook through his climax and wondered just how his world had whittled down to this. This one lonely angel had come into his life when he’d given up hope and returned his soul to him. And then returned his brother to him. And then shown him that love was something you didn’t chose, it chose you instead.

“Everything,” Cas whispered into his ear and his mouth was a brand against his skin. “You are everything to me and I cannot conceive of a world without you in it.”

Dean pulled him closer, tighter and wondered how the hell he’d managed to fall in love with this surly, curious, wonderful creature. “Best you make sure you keep me alive then,” he said and felt Castiel shudder.

“You need to stop rushing headlong into danger,” Cas told him and now he sounded drowsy.

Dean pulled back a little and caught Castiel’s gaze. “You know who you’re talking to, right?” he asked even though his body was screaming for rest.

“Which is why I’m cautioning you,” Cas said, taking a deep breath and going totally boneless against Dean. “I wish to sleep now.”

Dean poked his shoulder. “You’re an angel, you’re not supposed to sleep.”

He felt Cas shrug against him and it made his body quiver. “You’ve broken most of my rules,” Cas murmured and his eyelashes were dark against his cheeks. “What’s another one between friends?”

Dean fell asleep between one breath and the next, arms full of sated angel and heart full of fuck knows what sort of feelings. He was so screwed.

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Anchorage Airport was bigger than Dean had expected. But then, he’d been expecting a dirt road runway and propeller planes.

The private jet waiting for them looked one hell of a lot better than what he’d been expecting as well. Although Dean could have done without the pair of vampires who looked up at them when they boarded.

“It’s about bloody time,” Spike looked up from the game of chess he and Angel were playing. “We were beginning to think that we were going to have to handle this whole mess ourselves.”

Illyria raised one dark blue eyebrow. “You just arrived,” she told them.

Dean grinned and Sam nudged him, nodding towards Illyria with a grin of his own. “She’s awesome.” Dean’s smile vanished as he looked at Sam’s besotted expression. He wondered how the hell he was going to cure Sam of his crush on the big blue babe.

“She’s not human,” Dean reminded Sam who just showed him bitch-face number three and pointed his chin at Castiel in a very pointed fashion. “Shut up,” Dean said and he was not blushing, dammit.

“If you’ll buckle up then we can get going,” Angel said with a small smile and Dean flopped into one of the butter-soft leather seats with a moan. He wanted to hug the chair. Possibly make love to it. He revised that. Fuck Cas in the seat. Naked Cas and naked Dean and nothing else. He felt his eyes glaze over.

Then the engine started and Dean’s loving caress on the arm rests became a grip of terror. “Dean,” Sam sat down next to him and stared at him in concern. “Just take a couple of deep breaths and it’ll be okay.” His hands were warm on Dean’s arm and his eyes entreated Dean to focus on him.

“Fuck it, Sammy, why can’t I get over this shit?” Dean gritted and he felt every bone in his body shaking.

“Why is he trembling so?” Illyria asked from her seat opposite them.

Sam looked up at her, hands still on Dean. “He hates flying,” he reminded her.

She nodded slowly and her head tipped to the side as she considered him. “You are aware that it is irrational,” she said.

“No it isn’t,” Dean hissed and glared at her. “If man were meant to fly then he’d have frigging wings!” The last words were swallowed in a gasp as the jet started its taxi down the runway. He knew Sam would give him a hard time about it later but he wrapped his fingers around his brother’s and held tight.

“Sleep,” Illyria said suddenly. Dean opened his mouth to cuss her out and ask her if she had a tranquilizer somewhere in her suit but he was lights out before the words formed in his brain.

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He woke up when the plane touched down. Cas peered down at him. “You snore,” he observed.

“Like a tractor,” Sam added.

“And you drool,” Spike was way too pleased to point that out.

“If any vampire attacks any of you, you’re on your own,” Dean told them and lifted his head from Castiel’s shoulder. He was sort of surprised that Cas was still around. “When did you get here?” he asked. “I’d have thought you’d have…” he made a vague flapping motion with the hand that wasn’t curled around Castiel’s.

“I wished to speak with Illyria and Angel about what we are going to be facing up there.”

Dean glared at him and sat up fully. “You couldn’t wait until you could have that conversation with all of us?”

“Well, actually, you’re the only one who missed out on the chat, Sleeping Beauty,” Spike told him.

Dean remembered Illyria’s command and turned his glare on her. “Hey!” he yelled and pointed an angry finger at her. “That’s unacceptable!”

Illyria looked down her nose at him. “You were panicking, it was more expedient to have you unconscious and calm than awake and crying like an infant.”

“I **do not** cry like a baby,” Dean gritted. Sam opened his mouth. “One more word and you will sing soprano for the rest of your life,” Dean warned. Sam wisely closed his mouth but the fucker was grinning.

“Would you like me to recap what we discussed?” Angel’s polite question just made Dean madder.

“That would be great, thanks,” Dean said and Sam’s eyes rolled so hard they almost rolled right out of his head.

Castiel looked between them. “You are being sarcastic?” he asked and Dean just sighed. It was no fun messing with someone who just didn’t get the concept of sarcasm.

“You think?” Spike snarked and made a ‘zip the lips’ motion when Angel shot a look at him. “Fine, I’ll just sit here in the corner, shall I?”

“We should get out of the aircraft,” Illyria suited her actions to words and stepped out into near-darkness. She looked around at the almost-night. “This is remarkably similar to my home-world.”

“Seriously?” Dean stared out at the bleak landscape. “That’s pretty depressing actually.”

Sam shoved at him and he stumbled down the short set of steps. “It’s beautiful in a stark kind of way,” Sam said as he looked around.

“I need my happy pills,” Dean muttered and Castiel lifted his chin and sort of sniffed at the air. “What the fuck are you doing?” Dean asked.

“The vampires are aware of our presence,” Cas told him and vanished.

Spike stared at where Cas had been. “Now that’s a power I could use,” he said and his eyes were gleaming.

Angel just put a big hand on the back of his neck. “You have more than enough going for you, William,” his voice was low and intimate and made Dean feel a little squirmy.

Sam followed Illyria down to the asphalt and they stood there for a while. Dean was a little worried about the infatuated expression on Sam’s face but it was the least of his problems right now.

[next](http://cydsa.livejournal.com/54715.html)

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from

Angel lifted his chin and sniffed at the air in much the same way as Castiel had done. “They don’t smell like the usual run-of-the-mill vampires,” he noted.

Spike copied him and shook his head. “Something different,” he agreed.

Dean looked at them and then at Sam and Illyria. “Hey Blue, do you smell anything weird about these guys?”

Spike hid a grin at the pinched expression on Illyria’s face. “I smell monster, I smell death.” She turned away and stared into the darkness. “I smell Draugar.”

“Draugar?” Spike looked over at Angel who shrugged. “Foreign vampire, right?”

“You’re not very clued up on your species, are you?” Dean asked and sort of skipped out of the way when Spike made a half-hearted lunge at him.

“I bet you don’t know much about them either,” Spike snarled a little and Dean grinned.

“That’s why I keep Sammy around. He’s like a walking, talking encyclopedia of knowledge about the weird, the wonderful and the whacky.”

Angel had heard the name draugar before, something Wesley had once told him, but for now, he was coming up empty. “Remind me about them?” He watched the younger Winchester take a breath.

“A draugr or draug is an undead creature from Norse mythology,” Sam began. “The name actually means ‘ghost’ and legend has it that they, the draugar, live in the graves of dead Norsemen, guarding their treasures. We met up with one about four years ago when we were in Canada.”

Spike snorted. “A little far from home then, aren’t they?”

Sam shrugged. “It’s probably a lot like their home country here,” he looked around once more and Angel did the same, this time trying to see it through the eyes of a Norse vampire.

“Is there anything special about them?” Angel asked and he really wished for Wesley’s encyclopedic knowledge right then.

“Draugar possess superhuman strength, can increase their size at will and are noted for having numerous magical abilities.” Sam’s recitation told Angel that the younger Winchester was almost as much of a book nerd as Wesley had been. He rubbed his chest where it ached a little at the thought of his lost friend.

“Magic?” Spike scowled. “That’s completely not fair.” He glared at Angel as though it was all his fault.

“Sure Spike,” Angel glared back. “I’ll just wrangle up some magical power, okay?”

Illyria stared at the two of them with her usual disdain. “The stories of the Draugar magic are overblown.” She turned to Sam. “They are not able to change size, shape-shift, control the weather or see into the future.”

Angel could practically see the disappointed slump of Sam’s shoulders. “So what can they do then?” he asked and Angel wondered just when Illyria had become the fountain of knowledge at which to worship.

“They are able to enter your dreams,” Illyria said and Angel stared at her.

“Seriously?” Dean stepped nearer. “Well, that should take care of them because the dreams that Sammy and I have, well, let’s just say they’re not pretty.”

“Draugar also bring disease and can create temporary darkness in daylight hours. While they prefer to be active during the night, they are not as vulnerable to sunlight like others of your kind,” Illyria turned that endless blue gaze to Angel. “They have an advantage over you.”

“So how do we kill them?” Dean cut it down to the most basic question.

“The usual,” Sam’s grin was wide. “Cut off the draugr's head, burn the body, and dump the ashes in the sea to be absolutely sure that the draugr is dead and gone.”

“Iron can injure the creature,” Illyria added. “However, this will merely slow it down. Complete destruction is the only method that is assured of success.”

Spike snorted. “Deader than dead then?”

“There is nothing deader than dead,” Castiel’s reply and sudden reappearance made them all jump a little.

Dean glowered at Castiel. “I am going to put a bell on you, I fucking swear it.”

Castiel’s mouth twitched but he said nothing.

“What did you find out?” Angel asked the angel.

“There are about ten of them in the nest,” Castiel replied. “They are hel-blár draugar.”

Spike stared blankly at him. “The what?”

“The draugar are born either hel-blár or nár-fölr,” Sam explained. Angel stifled a smile when Spike’s expression darkened.

“You are speaking fucking gibberish!” he told Sam.

“Black or white,” Dean summarized and grinned. “Black is sort of blue though and white is kinda like a corpse. And it doesn’t really mean anything except the white guys can hide in the snow and the blue fangers can hide in the dark.”

“Thank you,” Spike kept his glare on Sam who glared back at him. “See how easy that was?”

“There are six of us and ten of them,” Dean said. “How do you want to play this?”

“It would be best not to have the two mortals together,” Illyria observed. “It might make the draugar blood-crazed.”

“I’ve been told I’m quite the vampire fest,” Dean preened and Castiel shook his head.

“That is not correct,” Castiel said and frowned at Dean. “You were a vampire but your blood is no sweeter than Sam’s.”

Spike sauntered over to Dean and sniffed at his neck. Angel struggled not to laugh when Dean stepped back hastily and practically cuddled up to the angel’s side. “You don’t smell different,” Spike told him and his grin was all teeth. “I could have a quick taste though and give you my expert opinion.”

“Spike,” Angel warned and Spike turned innocent eyes to him. “Behave.”

“What?” Spike asked, all innocence, and Angel could see the laughter in his face. “Just wanting to verify the facts.”

“Human blood tastes the same to all vampires.” Illyria’s statement brooked no argument. “The draugar will not care as long as it is fresh.”

“Now, Blue,” Spike chided, “you just know that’s not true.” He walked over to her and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “That’s like saying all cats look the same in the dark.”

“I do not know what that means,” Illyria told him.

Angel sighed. It was time to bring things back to order. “So, I suggest we hunt in threes - one vamp, one human and one ‘other’,” he looked at Dean for affirmation.

“Sounds good,” Dean agreed. “We didn’t bring too much in the way of weapons though.”

Spike walked to the small cargo hold of the plane and popped open a compartment with a flourish. “All your needs taken care of in one place.”

Dean and Sam peered into the hold and exchanged grins. Angel thought they looked almost like he and Spike did on the scent of a hunt. “Awesome,” Dean breathed.

Sam pulled out a large iron axe with a finely honed blade. “I may not want to give it back,” he warned Angel.

“You kill more than one draugr with that, you keep it,” Angel offered and Sam’s eyes lit up.

“Deal!” he clasped the axe close as though it was a pretty girl.

Dean rifled through the supplies and came out with a curved sword. “Awesome,” he said again.

“The Blade of Thorolf is a formidable weapon,” Angel noted.

“Thorolf, huh?” Dean gave the sword a couple of testing swings and grinned when Sam dodged out of his way. “Sounds like he was a Viking.”

“Congrats, brainiac,” Sam told him with a roll of his eyes. “You win the prize for guessing the most obvious thing in the history of ever.”

Dean gave him a casual finger and Castiel brought his own sword up on Dean’s next sweep. The clang of blade meeting blade echoed loudly in the otherwise quiet darkness.

“So can I keep it if I kill more than one of the vamps?” Dean asked Angel and danced around Castiel, waving the sword as Cas just turned in a slow circle, following his every movement.

“No,” Angel shook his head. “The Blade of Thorolf is a powerful artifact that was given to me by a friend. You’re more than welcome to use it though.” It made Angel ache to think of Giles. So he preferred not to.

Dean pouted a little and lunged towards Castiel who blocked the curved blade almost casually. “Fine,” he mumbled and stumbled back when Cas shoved at him. “No fair!” he protested. “Using angel power is cheating!”

“The draugar will not hesitate to use their full strength,” Castiel pointed out. “It would be good for you to remember that.”

“Eh,” Dean shrugged and then swung the sword once more. Castiel blocked him again.”Fuck, I want an axe,” he whined.

Sam clutched his weapon protectively. “Get your own,” he told Dean.

“After everything I’ve done for you, Sammy,” Dean shook his head and clucked his tongue before he tried to sneak a jab at Castiel.

Angel bit back a laugh when the angel just vanished and then popped back behind Dean. He tapped Dean’s shoulder with his sword and Dean yelped and spun around, glaring. “Asshole!”

“You all make too much noise,” Illyria noted in a tone that for her was almost chiding. “The Draugar will know exactly where you’re coming from.”

Spike hefted a large dagger in one hand and a broadsword in the other. “Let ‘em,” he grunted. “I’m ready.”

Angel looked at him. “You and Sam are with Illyria; Dean and Castiel are with me.”

“How come I have to take Blue?” Spike almost pouted and Angel made a low growl. Illyria peered down her nose at them, face almost impassive. Spike folded his arms in obvious protest. “Fine,” he muttered.

“So basically, it’s chop off their heads and then burn them to ash?” Dean asked and Castiel nodded.

“I’ll take the flamethrower,” Angel said and Dean’s eyes went wide and bright.

“Awesome!” he practically bounced with excitement. Angel really liked this hunter.

“I want a flamethrower too!” Spike protested.

“You’ve got Illyria,” Angel pointed out.

Dean and Sam both turned to look at the god. She shrugged. “Fire is a power I have still retained in this form.”

“That’s amazing.” It was Sam’s turn to bounce and Angel wondered just what it said about the six of them that they were looking forward to heading for certain death.

“Circle around the town from the north, we’ll go from the south and meet somewhere in the middle?” Dean looked at Angel for confirmation.

“Sounds like a plan,” Angel agreed.

“If you’re insane,” Spike muttered and he stepped up to Angel, pressing a quick kiss to his mouth. “Keep that huge forehead of yours safe,” he ordered. “I’ve grown used to having it around.”

Angel darted a quick look over to Dean and Sam who were very obviously looking elsewhere. “I’ll do my best,” he promised and kissed Spike hard. “Stay out of trouble.”

Spike’s grin didn’t comfort him. “You know me,” he said and Angel shook his head and turned to head out.

“Aw,” Dean crooned at Angel but his eyes were wicked. “That’s so sweet.”

“Shut up,” Angel pointed the flamethrower at him. “Human, extra-crispy, is a setting on this thing.”

“I’ve got an angel to protect me,” Dean boasted and nudged Castiel’s shoulder with his own. “Right, Cas?”

“The scripture tells us not to put the Lord our god to the test,” Castiel intoned and Angel watched Dean’s face darken. “I believe that this should apply to angels of the Lord as well.”

Angel was fascinated with the angel/human dynamic and hung back as Dean and Castiel walked in front of him. “So if a draugr decides to take a bite out of me, you’re just going to let it?” Dean demanded.

Castiel shrugged. “I will do my best to ensure that you come out of this alive.” Dean’s scowl deepened and his footsteps seemed to get heavier.

Angel sped up a little and walked at Castiel’s other side. “I’d like to hear the story about how you came to hang with the Winchesters some day.”

Cas turned his gaze to Angel and it was almost like looking onto the endless blue heavens of Illyria’s eyes. “I went to Hell and brought Dean back. Then I did the same with Sam. They are mine as I am theirs.”

The flat tone hid a wealth of emotion and Angel had spent decades hiding his own feelings from others. He merely nodded in understanding. “It sounds like an amazing tale.”

“It is,” Dean agreed and something flashed across his face, too quickly to identify but to Angel it looked a lot like love.

“Hell, huh?” Angel watched the darkness and noticed movement in the shadows. He looked at Castiel and Dean who both nodded at him. They had spotted the draugr and were ready.

“Yeah,” Dean hefted the Blade of Thorolf and tensed for action. “Cas fought through the hoards of Hell to get to me and bring me back to life.”

“That must have cost you,” Angel didn’t take his eyes away from the motion in the dark. The draugr was tracking them as they walked.

“I lost some of my brothers in the battle,” Castiel admitted and he stepped back one pace so that they formed a triangle on the road.

“But you got me in their place,” Dean reminded him and for a moment, Angel wanted to laugh.

“I wonder every day who ended up the poorer in that situation.” Castiel’s droll tone belied the curve of his mouth.

“Now, don’t be like that, babe,” Dean chided and Angel spotted a dagger drop from Dean’s sleeve and slide into the palm of his hand. “You know that I’m the best thing that ever happened to you.”

Castiel’s sword was a thin sliver of metal as he held it securely. “Truth,” he admitted and for an instant, it seemed as though Dean and Castiel were completely alone in the world.

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The draugr attacked without warning. Dean ducked to avoid its initial assault and Castiel thrust his sword into the creature’s back. It howled and spun to face the angel and Dean took the opportunity to lift the Blade of Thorolf and slice through skin and tendon and bone. The head dropped to the ground with a dull thud and Angel pointed the flamethrower at it. The smell of burning flesh rose into the air and Dean gagged.

He stepped back and watched Angel set the body alight. He fucking loved that flamethrower. He wondered idly if Sam would let him get one. He might have to sneak it into the Impala’s trunk while Sam wasn’t looking. Sam was a pissy bitch sometimes when it came to stuff like that.

“That seemed easy,” Dean noted as they stood watching the draugr burning.

“Maybe a little _too_ easy,” Angel agreed and he looked at Dean. “It was young.”

“Untried in battle,” Cas said and he gazed into the darkness again. “A test perhaps?”

“Yeah, that’s about what I’d do,” Dean nodded and tightened his hold on the sword. “We should get moving.”

They fell back into the triangle formation again with Cas keeping one step back.

Dean watched the shadows as they walked. The draugar were there, in the dark and the cold, staring back at him. He was sure of it. He shivered a little as the cold seemed to bite through his coat. He felt mildly annoyed at the fact that Cas and Angel seemed completely unaware of the fact that it was about a million degrees below freezing.

The town of Barrow was in almost total darkness. He looked up at the streetlights and nothing was on. A few houses were lit from within and Dean hoped it meant that at least some people were still alive. The road beneath his feet was hard, compacted dirt and it struck him just how far he was from civilization.

“Do you know how many people live here?” he asked.

Angel kept his gaze on the shadows between the buildings as he replied, “about four thousand or so at the last census.”

“Many of them are already dead,” Cas said and Dean couldn’t quite pin the emotion of that observation.

“You can’t save everyone, Cas,” Dean wanted to put his hand on Cas but this wasn’t the time.

“No one else dies tonight,” Castiel avowed and Dean saw the iron determination on his face.

“I can get on board with that plan,” Dean agreed and he spotted a house where lights were on. He climbed onto the porch, knocked on the door and called out, “Hi, my name is Dean and I’m here to help you.”

The curtain to the side of the door twitched and an old lady peered out at them. “How do I know that you’re here to help?” She was somewhere between sixty and seventy, Dean reckoned, but her eyes were sharp.

“I guess the only answer I can give is that I’m not interesting in making you my dinner, ma’am,” Dean tried his best to appear harmless. “You don’t have to invite us in but I’d sure appreciate some information.”

The curtain closed and then the top half of the door swung open. “I’m Mary Siku,” she said and she looked between them. “Who are you and where are you from?”

Dean pointed to himself. “Dean Winchester, ma’am,” he smiled at her. “My friends are Cas and Angel.” There was something about this tough, wary woman who bore his mother’s name that drew him.

Her intent gaze went to the other two. “You’re both something more than him, aren’t you?”

Castiel stepped forward and her eyes met his fearlessly. “We are more than human, yes,” he told her. “But we are here to help you and your town.”

Mary looked at them for a moment and then opened the bottom half of the door. “You’d better come in then,” she said and Dean was the first to move, Angel and Castiel close behind him. Mary bolted the door once they were inside.

“How long have you been hiding like this?” Angel’s question was almost gentle and Mary sighed. Only then did Dean notice the shotgun that she’s propped next to the door.

“About two weeks now,” she said and went to the small kitchen. She filled a glass with whiskey and drank it in one gulp. “Feels longer though,” she admitted.

Cas went to the window and stared out at the darkened town. “Do you know how many have died?” His voice was bleak and Dean wanted to remind him that just because he believed he should save everyone, didn’t mean that it was possible.

“Probably about half the town,” Mary tipped the bottle towards them and Dean nodded while the other two shook their heads. “They seemed pretty hungry when they got here.” She pulled out another glass. “Do you know what they are?”

Dean went to her and touched the hands that were twisting in agitation. “They’re vampires,” he said, something about her bringing every protective instinct to the fore. “A little stronger than humans, but now that _we’re_ here, they’re in a whole world of trouble.”

Mary stared at him intently, gaze roaming his face as though searching for answers. Whatever she found there seemed to satisfy her because she nodded. “Glad to have you, then.” She poured Dean a shot and then another for herself. “I’ve lived here all my life and this is the first time I’ve been afraid.”

“By this time tomorrow, you will be free to walk through your town again,” Cas promised and Dean knew that he’d felt as keenly for this old lady as he had.

“I’m going to pray that you’re right,” Mary smiled and it was tired and strained. She clinked her glass against Dean’s and they both drank. “You drink your whiskey like my Jacob did,” she smiled again and it was less strained this time.

“Your husband?” Angel asked and she nodded.

“Was he ..?” Dean didn’t want to ask her if the draugar had killed her husband.

“He passed this last winter, in his sleep,” she told them and Dean felt something ease in his chest.

“I’m sorry,” Dean offered and she nodded her thanks.

“We had fifty-two good years together,” she said and sipped her tea. “It’s more than most get.”

Dean thought about his parents, especially that other Mary who died young at the hands of the yellow-eyed demon and John, the father he’d always tried to please and never quite succeeded. “You were lucky,” he agreed.

Cas suddenly tensed. “They’re here.”

Dean went to where he was standing at the window and peered out into the night. He spotted the shapes moving in the shadows. “How many?”

“Four,” Angel said and Dean looked over to him. He was by the other window with Mary beside him and his mouth was grim.

“They don’t come into the houses,” Mary told them. “Do they need an invitation?”

They all stared at her and she raised her eyebrows. “What?” she asked. “I might live in Barrow but I _do_ read.”

“Yes,” Castiel said and he turned his gaze to Mary. “They need to be invited in. It’s the only reason that some of you are still alive.”

Dean wanted to tell Cas to lighten up on the old girl but Mary merely nodded. “Thought so.” She went to the shotgun and lifted it into her arms. “I’ve fired a couple of warning shots but they never tried to get in.”

Angel called, “incoming!” and the sound of feet on the porch sent Dean to the window beside Castiel. The draugr was almost invisible in the half twilight. Its blue-black skin blended into the surroundings and Dean realized that unless the vamps were moving, they were going to be almost impossible to see.

“Fuck,” he muttered and lifted the sword. “Do we go out there or do we wait in here?” he looked at Angel.

“Like all vampires, they’ll continue hunting until every human is dead or turned.” Angel’s eyes never left the draugr. “They have almost two months to wait the people of the town out while the humans starve to death.”

Dean grimaced. “Nice.” He squared his shoulders. “So, we fight?” He looked between Cas and Angel who both nodded.

“We fight,” Angel affirmed.

“What can I do?” Mary stood at Dean’s back. “I can’t just sit here, waiting for you boys to rescue me.” She cocked the shotgun and her eyes were fierce.

Angel looked at her. “It’s what we do, ma’am,” he told her. “We help the hopeless.”

Dean snorted. “And cue the violins.”

Angel scowled at Dean. “A very good friend came up with the slogan.”

“Good thing they weren’t in advertising then,” Dean told him and headed for the door. “You two coming?” he asked, heaved the door open and jumped out into the night.

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Angel stifled a curse and raced after Dean. He didn’t want to be the one to explain to Sam Winchester that he’d let Dean get his reckless ass killed on his watch.

He heard yells and growls and snarls and realized that Dean was partly responsible for some of the noises as he hurtled into battle. Dean was utterly fearless, he’d gone after the draugr without concern for his own life.

Angel waited to see if Dean would need his help but he seemed to be doing just fine on his own. He was reluctantly impressed because for all his cocky bravado, Dean was a good man in a fight when it all came down to it.

The draugr’s claws slashed at Dean and he swung the Blade of Thorolf to meet them. The scream from the vampire came when Dean sliced off the talons with easy grace. It staggered back, off the porch steps, down onto the dusty street and Dean followed, racing towards it, sword in one hand, knife in the other.

“He’s pretty good,” Angel commented to Castiel who was standing just outside the door watching the fight.

“He’s reckless,” Castiel’s glower was pretty scary.

“If you two pussies could maybe get your asses in gear and give a guy a hand?” Dean’s yell was accompanied by another scream as a second draugr raced up to where Dean and the first vampire were fighting.

Castiel was moving a heartbeat later, sword arm sweeping up in an almost careless motion. Angel watched as the angel sliced off the head of the approaching draugr with no effort. He fired up the flamethrower and blasted the body.

“Thank you,” Castiel’s nod was brief but Angel knew it meant more than mere words. His initial meeting with the angel hadn’t been great but perhaps there was a chance here for at least mutual respect, if not actual friendship.

“Anytime,” Angel replied and turned when he heard Dean yell something.

He smothered a laugh when he saw that Dean had managed to get the draugr beneath him, sword on the ground and was determinedly sawing at the thick neck with his knife while pinning the flailing arms with his knees. “Need a hand?” he asked.

Dean’s eyes flashed green fire and he gritted, “A sharper knife wouldn’t be turned down.”

“You should not allow your blade to grow so blunt,” Cas chided as he strode up to where Dean was practically sitting on top of the draugr and separated the head from the rest of the body with one clean swipe.

Angel ignored the double entendre and concentrated on cleaning up the mess with fire.

Dean, however, was genetically predisposed to be unable to ignore the same double entendre and his grin was filthy. “I’ll show you a blunt blade,” he threatened.

Castiel looked at him, perplexed. “You have already shown your blunt blade.”

Angel snorted and tried to appear impassive when Castiel’s deep blue gaze swung to him. “Dean has made a sexual reference that I am unable to understand, has he not?”

“I’m always making sexual references that you don’t understand, Cas,” Dean said and they all watched as the bodies burned.

“Behind you!” Mary shouted from the doorway and the noise from the shotgun was like a bomb blast. Dean barely had a chance to scream at her to get back inside before the draugr that had been heading for them, was on her.

“No!” Dean’s scream was chilling and Angel and Castiel used their supernatural abilities to launch themselves back to the porch.

Angel knew that no matter how fast he was it was always going to be too late. Castiel was vicious in dispatching the draugar and Angel finished it off with the flamethrower. He didn’t want to look at the small, broken body of the elderly lady who’d let them into her home.

“Can you heal her?” he heard Dean’s question and turned his gaze to where Mary was lying. Her throat had been ripped open and the air was bubbling out in small pops of blood. He reminded himself that he’d fed earlier and there was no need for his fangs to expose themselves at the heavy, iron smell of aortal blood.

Castiel was crouched over Mary, his eyes intent on hers. “I can,” he admitted. “But I’m not sure she wants me to.”

Dean’s mouth tightened. “She wouldn’t want to die like this!” he protested. “Mary, blink once if you want Cas to heal you. Twice, if you want to go to be with Jacob.”

Angel could see the will to live in those old eyes and she blinked once, fiercely. Castiel’s mouth curved a little on one side and he reached down to touch her throat. Angel could only stare in astonishment as he saw the vicious gashes vanish and the light coming back into the dying woman’s eyes.

“Told you,” Dean grinned at Castiel. “Humans always want to live more than they want to go to heaven.”

Castiel’s expression was capable of removing skin from flesh. “Heaven is a wondrous place.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Sure it is,” he agreed, “if you’re **dead**!”

“How…what…how did you do that?” Angel stuttered.

Dean’s eyeroll was epic. “What part of ‘Angel of the Lord’ did you miss in the introductions, dude?”

Angel ignored the eyeroll and stared at Mary, who was sitting up, completely fine. “You’re alive.” He looked at Castiel and demanded, “how is she alive?”

“Angel. Of. The. Lord.” Dean reminded him and helped Mary to her feet. “How are you feeling?”

She opened her mouth once and then closed it again, shaking her head. Angel understood exactly how she felt.

“We have dispatched three of them,” Castiel noted and Angel’s attention went back to the half-darkness. “There is one more out there.”

“Let him come and get me,” Dean threatened, hoisting the sword up to his shoulder and glaring out at the invisible enemy.

“You said you spotted ten of the draugar,” Angel looked at Castiel who nodded. “We’ve killed four all together, there is still one hiding out there,” he nodded towards the shadows. “That means that there are five unaccounted for.”

“Sammy’ll take care of the others,” Dean’s confidence in his little brother’s abilities didn’t really make Angel feel any more comforted.

“Sammy?” Mary’s voice was croaky but she’d picked up the shotgun and looked ready to wade out into battle. Dean put a hand out to stop her from coming out of the house again.

“No,” Dean said and pushed her gently back inside. “Stay there, please. I don’t want to have to worry about you on top of everything else.”

Mary scowled but nodded and she patted Dean’s hand. “Your parents must be very proud of you,” she noted.

Dean’s face hardened. “They’re dead,” his voice was flat. “It’s just me and Sam now.”

“Sammy?” she asked again.

Dean nodded. “My little brother.” Angel watched that grin flash again. “Although he’s about the size of a moose,” Dean confided.

There was a shout and the flash of blue fire in the distance. “Illyria,” Angel said and exchanged glances with Castiel. “We should go.”

Castiel nodded. “Yes,” he agreed.

Dean looked at Mary. “Swear to me that you’ll stay inside your house no matter what you see or hear.”

Mary scowled. “I can help,” she insisted.

“Swear it,” Dean repeated.

She folded her arms across her chest. “Fine, I swear,” she muttered and Angel’s last sight of her was her face softening as the door closed.

“Let’s go and kick some Norwegian ass,” Dean flung himself off the porch and Angel scrambled to follow. Castiel was a pale shadow at his back as they raced into the darkness.

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Dean was pumped. He was totally going to brag on the fact that he’d gotten rid of three vampires on his own - well, two and a half, he amended mentally if he counted Castiel’s small assist at the end there. He’d let Cas have half of that one.

He ran towards where he’d seen the blue-white flame in the distance and almost got his head sliced off when a draugr launched an attack. He gave a totally manly yelp and stumbled back out of the way, letting Cas step in and coolly dispatch the vampire with a sweep of his arm.

“Thanks,” he told Cas who frowned at him.

“You need to be less reckless,” Castiel remonstrated.

Dean carried on moving towards his brother and grinned back at Cas. “You’ve known me for how long and I’ve been careful exactly how many times?” he asked.

Castiel’s frown deepened and it made Dean want to laugh. “That is not the point,” he began and then stepped gracefully to the side when another draugr exploded out of the darkness.

Dean lifted the Blade of Thorolf and ran towards it, shouting. He loved the heat of battle and so far, these blue-black vamps hadn’t been anything to write home about.

He was stopped in mid stride by a brawny arm wrapping around his throat. He barely got the chance to take a breath when the draugr started squeezing. Fucking amateur. He would kick his own ass for not realizing that there were two of them and they were waiting to ambush them.

The monster he’d been running towards kept coming and Dean felt a moment of panic before he remembered who his back-up was.

Castiel stepped in front of him; his angel sword catching the moon’s light and shining with the blood of the draugr he’d already dispatched.

Dean focused on trying to wriggle out of his captor’s grasp and just hoped that Angel was doing something behind the vampire that would help to free him. He shoved his knife backwards into the hard skin of the draugr and it barely flinched.

Dean could feel his vision dimming as his oxygen reduced. He kicked back, landing several booted kicks against the legs of the draugr, again with barely perceptible effect. The arm around his throat just tightened and tightened and Dean dropped the knife, trying to get his fingers between the draugr’s arm and his neck.

It was useless. His human strength was no match for the power of the vampire and Dean wondered if this was how he was going to go out.

“No!” Sam’s yell was like a bucket of water in his face and he struggled again, weakened but determined to do whatever he could to reach Sam.

The arm suddenly went loose and then slack and Dean heard the sound of the vamp’s body wetly hitting the road. He coughed a couple of times and bizarrely thought about how his voice would sound the next time he spoke.

“Are you okay?” Sam’s worried face was in front of him and Dean nodded, rubbing the abused skin.

“Good,” Dean rasped and toppled over. Sam caught him. Just like he’d caught Dean so many times in the past. Just like Dean would always catch Sam.

“Dean!” Cas was kneeling beside him, hand stretching out to touch him. Then he felt the comforting warmth of Castiel’s power pushing through him, healing him from within.

The smell of burning flesh hit his nostrils again and he fought not to gag. “Did it bite you?” Angel appeared concerned and Dean shook his head.

“Might have broken a couple of vertebrae though,” he admitted and smiled up at Cas. “Good thing we’ve got Florence Nightingale here.”

Spike snorted a laugh from his position at Angel’s shoulder. “He’d look pretty funny in a nurse’s uniform,” he said.

Dean’s mind totally did not go to Cas in a short white shift with a nurse’s cap and a stethoscope. Cas frowned at him. “No,” he said simply and Dean let his shoulders slump.

“You are such a buzzkill,” he muttered and let Sam haul him back to his feet. He both hated and loved the fact that Cas could read his mind; it made sex spectacular because he never had to tell Castiel where to touch, how close he was, what made him moan.

“Fuck.” His cheeks were red. Now he had a boner and the smirk on Castiel’s face told him that the fucker knew it.

“How many draugar did you get?” Sam asked him.

He focused on the job at hand. “Four,” he said. “You?”

“Three,” Spike offered, “One per customer.”

Sam scowled. “I could have handled that last one.”

Illyria’s brow rose. “It was about to eat you as a refreshment.”

Dean was pleased to see that his little brother didn’t seem so impressed with the former god. “I still could have taken it.”

Spike’s snort was derisive. “No, you couldn’t,” he reached out and touched a gash on Sam’s cheek. “You were almost sleeping beauty.”

Dean grinned. “Glad to see that I wasn’t the only one who got caught off-guard.” His chest puffed out. “I got three of them.”

“Two,” Castiel corrected and Dean glared.

“Two and a half,” he negotiated. “I would have eventually cut its head off.”

Cas waited a breath and then nodded. “Two and a half,” he agreed.

“Four for us, three for you and two now.” Angel ticked the numbers off. “One more to go.”

“It would most likely be their queen,” Illyria nodded. “The female has a different scent to the male of the species.”

“A chick?” Dean rolled his shoulders. “She smells different?”

“It is not usual for a female draugr to be the nest queen,” Illyria noted. “The vampires will always defend her before all others.”

“Well, the saying goes that the female of the species is more deadly than the male.” Spike nudged Illyria’s shoulder. “I mean, check you out, Blue.”

“That is truth.” Illyria lifted her head and Dean saw Cas do the same. “She’s coming.”

Dean heard her before he saw her. She was shrieking with rage and, he supposed, grief as she flew towards them. Cas pushed Dean behind him. “Hey!” he protested and saw that Illyria had done the same with Sam. Spike and Angel stood behind them, back to back with them.

“You cannot fight her,” Cas looked at him and Dean recognized that face. It was his ‘Don’t Argue With Me I Am An Angel Of The Lord And I Said So’ face.

“She will destroy you in a heartbeat,” Illyria agreed.

Dean protested, “I’ve already killed three…two and a half of the fuckers! Why can’t I deal with the lady vamp?”

“Because you will die.” Castiel turned to face the threat and Dean exchanged glances with Sam. It wasn’t often that Cas put his foot down like this so Dean _was_ paying attention. He just didn’t see what the difference was.

He got it when she appeared a few seconds later. She was bigger than the others had been, shoulders and arms heavy with muscles. She was screaming, high, sharp and enraged and her teeth looked as though Jaws had been harpooned and his teeth had been shoved in her mouth.

“Holy fuck,” Dean took a step back and met the solid breath of Spike’s shoulders.

“What you said,” Spike craned his neck to catch a look at her and he went even paler. “Jesus, Mary and Joseph, that is the ugliest woman I’ve ever seen.”

“I can see that she hasn’t been human for a very long time,” Angel told them and his lips thinned. “Like most of the oldest vampires, she’s lost all emotion apart from the imperative to kill and feed and fuck.”

“Well now,” Spike mused as Castiel stepped forward to meet her. “That doesn’t sound like too bad a life quite frankly.”

Dean lifted the Blade of Thorolf and tapped Illyria on the shoulder. “I’m betting you could use this better than me right now.”

She met his gaze and it was all Dean could do not to flinch. He could almost feel that presence in his head.

“Stay out of his mind,” Castiel’s voice was low and vicious, and Illyria tore her gaze from Dean’s. He felt like someone had cut a rope from his neck.

“Your mate is brave,” Illyria gave no indication that she felt chastised and she took the sword from Dean. “You have the heart of a true warrior.”

Dean wasn’t sure how to respond to that but fortunately the queen bitch had decided that enough was enough and she hurtled across the last few feet.

She was a blur of speed as she threw herself at Cas. Dean wanted to do something but he could only watch as his angel and the blue god took turns at slicing at the draugr. It was both horrifying and beautiful. When he looked over at Sam, he knew that he was thinking the same thing.

The draugr was fast. Fucking fast. Dean struggled to follow her movements as she spun and kicked, sliced and slashed at Cas and Illyria. Neither of them broke a sweat though and Dean admitted that he wouldn’t have been able to take her on.

She managed to get razor sharp claws into Illyria’s arm and deep blue liquid started pouring out of the wound. Spike was beside Illyria a moment later, pulling her back and away from the battle. The Blade of Thorolf clattered to the floor and before Dean could move a muscle, Angel had picked it up and waded in to help Castiel.

It was the clang of steel on claw, the grunt of flesh on flesh. It was ugly and vicious and violent and Dean couldn’t look away.

Castiel went in low and pierced her belly with the angel sword. As she gasped and screamed and clutched at the gushing hole in her abdomen, Angel stepped up and took her head off with one powerful sweep of the Viking sword.

Dean looked around and saw Spike tending to Illyria, Sam crouched next to him. The flamethrower that Angel had been carrying lay abandoned on the ground where he’d dropped it. Dean hefted it into his arms and made his way to where the corpse lay. It was immensely satisfying to set her alight.

They all watched her burn.

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Angel lifted Illyria into his arms, Spike hovering at his side. “She’s lost a lot of blood.”

“I am fine,” Illyria insisted and Angel looked down at her. Her face was pale and she was shaking.

“For the first time since I’ve met you, I can honestly say you are _not_ fine.” Angel ignored the Winchesters and concentrated on Illyria. She was a pain in the ass most of the time, but she was _his_ pain in the ass.

“The draugr have poison in their claws,” Sam came jogging up behind them and Angel met his worried gaze. “She needs to be given silver or mercury, something to flush it out.”

Spike gaped at him. “She can’t drink silver or mercury! It will kill her!”

Castiel shook his head. “Sam is correct, you need to get the poison from her system as quickly as possible. Even the smallest taint of the draugar is enough to change her.”

Angel thought of a world where the god Illyria was a bloodthirsty vampire and shuddered. “Where the fuck do I get silver or mercury?”

Dean frowned. “Surely you’ve got some silver bullets in that arsenal on your plane?”

“Yeah,” Spike was already running, grabbing the flamethrower out of Dean’s hands, “there are and I know just how to melt them down.”

Castiel put a hand on Dean’s arm. “We should inform the towns’ people that they are safe.”

Angel hadn’t even thought about the humans and he felt a moment of shame. It was his mission to help mortals but right now, his focus was on saving his friend.

“Go, man,” Dean urged. “We’ll take care of it.” Angel nodded and raced after Spike, praying that they had enough silver to stop Illyria from turning into a draugr and consuming the entire world.

Spike was already emptying the weapons hold, pulling out the small case of silver bullets. “Will this be enough?” he asked as Angel laid Illyria carefully on the ground.

He pulled out a thick steel bowl, the one they used for incantations, and helped Spike toss the bullets into it. “Stand back,” Spike ordered and Angel obeyed.

The flamethrower made quick work of the silver, melting it into a thick viscous liquid that bubbled. “So, do we wait until it cools down or do we give it to her neat?” Spike asked.

Angel stared at him. “How the fuck should I know?”

“Give me the silver.” Illyria’s voice was thready and Angel shook with fear. She wasn’t Fred but she had become important to him, to them, since their final battle with Wolfram and Hart.

Spike handed her the bowl, heat rising off the melted silver. “Are you sure?” he asked and Illyria’s eyes went cold.

“I am sure.” She lifted the bowl and tipped the contents into her mouth. Angel winced; even with the supernaturally quick healing abilities of the vampire, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to stomach a bowlful of boiling hot melted silver.

The scream that ripped from Illyria’s throat told him that it wasn’t a picnic for her either. Spike grabbed her, pulled her close as she shrieked in agony and Angel could do nothing else but enfold them both in his embrace. He could feel her shaking even through the buffer of Spike’s body and she sobbed her agony into Spike’s chest.

Angel hadn’t prayed for a very long time but for just a moment, he closed his eyes and whispered, “please.”

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Mary’s eyes were wary when she opened her door a crack. “There was an awful lot of noise out there.” Her shotgun was still near at hand.

Dean tried to smile reassuringly but it probably looked sickly and pathetic. “They’re all gone, Mary.”

She kept the door open only inches and stared at him suspiciously. Then she looked at Sam. “Who’re you?” she demanded.

“This is Sammy,” Dean said and her gaze softened.

The crack widened and she waved them in. “Come on then.”

Dean felt Sam crowd in behind him and realised that this was going to be another one of those cases with consequences. It was going to be a while before they felt happy with being out of sight of each other.

“Where’s the angel?” Mary asked once she’d closed the door.

Dean looked around. Cas hadn’t come in with him. “He’s probably gone to help our other friends,” Dean hoped. “One of them got pretty badly hurt.” He wouldn’t think of a blue chick with god-powers turning into a vamp. He was just a little tired of it all right now.

“Did you get them all?”

Dean nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”

Mary smiled. “Thank you, I’ll let some of my friends know. We have sort of an emergency phone tree here in Barrow. It works pretty well.”

Sam looked antsy. “We’d better be going, Dean.”

“Blue is going to be fine, Sammy,” Dean tried for a reassuring tone but to be honest, he just wasn’t sure about it. “Cas will help.”

“Let’s go.”

It wasn’t like Sam to be terse and unfriendly and Dean knew that they’d better leave. He looked back at Mary and gave her a card with his mobile number and Bobby’s address on it. “You call if anything happens, okay?”

Mary looked at the card and then at him. “Define anything?”

Dean grinned. He fucking loved this old lady. “Hinky,” he said. “Anything hinky.”

She grinned back at him and then wrapped her arms around him. “Thank you,” she whispered and stepped back. “If there’s anything I can do for you..?”

Dean swallowed hard over the lump in his throat and tried to smile. “Bake me a pie sometime and send it to the address on that card. I like apple pie most but I’ll settle for cherry.”

Mary grunted and pushed him a little. “I’ll get right on that.” Her eyes twinkled though.

Sam was already out of the door. Dean took one last look over his shoulder at Mary when he got to the bottom of the stairs.

“You come back and visit if you can,” Mary waved him off and Dean raced after Sam.

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Illyria’s screams had faded to gasps and Angel was torn between letting her go to check up on her and keeping her close. Spike wasn’t moving, his arms clamped around Illyria like a vice.

“Spike,” Angel wasn’t sure what he was going to say when Illyria suddenly convulsed, sending both of them flying away from her.

Angel scrambled back to his feet only to watch as she vomited a stream of silver and black bile onto the runway. It seemed to pour out of her in a never-ending flow.

Dean and Sam came running up, gasping for breath and wide-eyed. “What the fuck?” Dean stared at Illyria who had rolled onto her back, her body a long arched bow of agony.

“Silver,” Spike explained, not looking away from her.

“Huh,” Sam said. Then Castiel was kneeling next to her, hand on her forehead and she let out one more brain-splitting scream and went silent.

Spike was beside her a moment later. “What did you do to her?” he demanded as he gathered her into his arms.

Castiel’s face was impassive. “She will be fine. Her vessel was torn up inside from the silver, but I took care of that.”

Dean came over and took his hand, tugged him away. “Have I told you lately how awesome I think you are?”

Castiel’s gaze went hot and Angel wanted to look away. “Not recently, no.”

Sam stuck his fingers in his ears and squeezed his eyes shut. “Not in front of the children,” he sang out.

Dean kicked him and grinned when Sam yelped. “Where were you, we thought you’d headed straight here?” he looked back at Castiel.

“I wanted to make sure that we’d managed to destroy all of the monsters,” Castiel shrugged.

“And?” Dean prompted.

“We did.”

Spike ignored them and carried Illyria into the plane. “We should get going,” he called back over his shoulder.

Dean took a step towards the small plane, face going pale.

“I shall help you get through it,” Cas offered.

“Why can’t you just angel-magic me away from here?” Dean whined a little and followed Castiel up the stairs into the plane. “Fine, I can totally do this, I’m Dean fucking Winchester.”

“Pussy,” Sam called after him, mouth curved in a small smile.

Angel climbed into the plane and let Sam close the door behind them. The engines started up immediately.

“Is she going to be okay?” Sam crowded Angel and looked over his shoulder to where Spike was hovering over Illyria.

Angel shrugged. “No idea,” he sounded more nonchalant than he felt.

“She’s sleeping,” Spike’s eyes were dark and his mouth was tight. This had freaked him out, Angel could tell. They’d gotten used to not losing the people they loved. This would teach them not to be complacent.

“That’s good, right?” Angel didn’t know who Sam was asking but he just shrugged again.

“She’s a god, wearing human skin - this is all just one long learning curve for us.” He sat down opposite Spike and Illyria and buckled himself in.

Sam followed suit, eyes never leaving Illyria’s face. “Is there anything I can do?”

Spike looked up. “Don’t ever fucking call us to help you again.” His eyes went hard. “We won’t be available.”

“Spike…” Angel began and then closed his mouth when Spike glared at him.

“I am fine.” Illyria’s voice sounded almost normal and they all looked at her. She sat up and touched a hand to Spike’s arm. “I am not Winifred.”

“I fucking know that, you blind blue bitch!” Spike’s face was twisted with anger and something resembling fear.

Illyria’s mouth went slack. “You were concerned for me?” It was the first time that Angel could see she got that Spike’s sarcasm was a remarkably effective method of hiding his feelings.

“Don’t act so surprised,” Angel smiled at her. “We’ve gotten used to having you around.”

A touch of wonder crossed Illyria’s face for a microsecond and then she was back to her usual impassive self. “I would miss you if you were gone as well.” The confession was grudging but it made Angel’s smile widen.

“You big softie,” he kept his voice low and watched as Spike battled to control himself.

“What the fuck ever,” Spike crossed his arms and closed his eyes. “I’m going to get some shut-eye.”

Angel wasn’t fooled though, and he stretched his legs out until they entwined with Spike’s.

[   
](http://s200.photobucket.com/albums/aa54/CydSA/my%20art/?action=view&current=divider.png)

Dean felt Castiel’s fingers curl around his. “I will never let anything happen to you,” Dean looked into serious blue eyes.

“I know,” he admitted and squeezed back. “I just seriously hate flying.” He looked over to where Sam hovered over Illyria. “He’s crushing so hard on her.”

“She will crush him,” Cas agreed and Dean opened his mouth to explain what he’d meant but met Castiel’s amused gaze.

“Shut up,” he muttered, grinning a little, and nudged Cas with his shoulder. “Look at you with the sarcastic attitude, Castiel, angel of the lord. You’ve been hanging around me too much.”

“Gabriel warned me that you were a bad influence.” Castiel’s mouth curved in a small smile.

Dean snorted. “Gabriel was jealous because you loved me more than all the angels in heaven.”

“Truth,” Castiel agreed and looked down at their joined hands. “Perhaps that is why God stopped answering my prayers.”

“He stopped answering because he’s the ultimate absent Father,” Dean told him. Then he realised that they were in the air. “Do you think he’d listen if _I_ prayed right now?”

Cas smiled again, and this time it reached his eyes. “I’ve been meaning to ask you…” his voice trailed off and he looked around, saw Spike and Angel with their heads together and their eyes closed.

“What?” Dean demanded and he watched Cas glance over to where Sam sat near Illyria. A little too close for Dean’s comfort but he really wasn’t in the right frame of mind to deal with that right now.

Then again, ex-god and hunter wasn’t much of a leap from angel and hunter.

“Gabriel spoke to me of airplanes and such,” Cas mused and he looked around the small jet. “He informed me of a rite of passage that all humans must go through in the air.”

Dean frowned and tried hard not to think about the fact that he was in a tin can about a gajillion miles above the earth. “I don’t remember anything like that.” But this _was_ Gabriel they were talking about and it could be anything from … “What rite?” he asked.

“Gabriel told me of certain mortals who brave peril in order to join an exclusive group called the Mile High Club.” Castiel’s face was earnest as he looked at Dean. “Is it a ritual that could perhaps help with your fear of flying?”

“Cas,” Dean wondered if he should tell Castiel exactly what becoming a member of the club would entail.

“I believe that the rite is usually conducted in the restroom?” Suddenly Dean realised that Cas knew exactly what he was talking about.

“Oh my god,” Dean put his face in his hands, not sure whether to laugh or scream. “I’ve corrupted you forever. I’m definitely going to Hell.”

Castiel’s warm breath on his neck made him shudder. “Well then, let’s make it worth the trip.” He stood up and walked to the back of the small plane.

Dean sat for a moment, frozen with indecision and shot glances at the other four members of their little gang. They were all fast asleep. He wondered how much of that was Castiel’s doing. Then realised he didn’t care.

He stood up and followed Cas to the restroom. His own personal guardian angel was leaning back against the small vanity, trench-coat off and tie loosened. The wicked smile on his face told Dean that he was about to get very lucky.

And possibly make flying his favourite thing ever.

Okay, that might be pushing it, but top five at least.

Cas crooked his finger and Dean obeyed. He just prayed that there would be no turbulence. He put a hand on Castiel’s face and rubbed his thumb across slightly chapped lips. “So, how do we do this?” He let his gaze go around the tiny bathroom.

“Very carefully,” Cas suggested.

Dean grinned.

Very, very lucky indeed.

**Author's Note:**

> Title stolen from Joss Whedon, the god of all things Angel…. Written for 2011 vampirebigbang
> 
> Beta by dansetheblues & inbetweencabs who love me even when I ask them to beta at the verylastmoment! all mistakes mine, never theirs!


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